How to Kill A Butterfly
by Asanouta
Summary: Fighting a losing battle that was never his to begin with, a desperate kagema seeks to end his life, only to cross paths with a stranger from the West who will change his life, although not entirely for the better. Trapped in the colourful world of kabuki, how long can they play with fire before the flames of reality consume them? Tyki x Kanda, rated M for content.


Disclaimer: I do not own DGM and any of its characters; I merely abuse them in imaginary settings and AUs for no commercial purpose. Forgive any historical inaccuracies; my aim was to write fanfiction, not historical prose. That said, I did my best to do my research beforehand, but I'm pretty sure there's only so much I could get right in one and a half years (yes that's how long this has been sitting in my laptop) so kindly overlook any mistakes please, and enjoy the story.

Note: Full sentences in italics are thoughts, but certain Japanese words will be in italics as well, just because I cannot seem to get out of my formatting habit. Since this is set in Japan, let's pretend everyone's speaking Japanese regardless, even when it's written in English, unless specified, or maybe when Tyki is speaking to his friends (Which could be in his native tongue or whatever) because we all know that if I wrote this entire fic in Japanese no one would be able to understand a thing anyways.

* * *

**Chapter 1 - The Butterfly Effect**

The skies were a clear blue, with only a hint of fluffy white clouds dotting the azure background. The streets below were bustling with activity, the buzz of chatter and polite greetings filling the air, the clacking noise of wooden clogs as their owners hurried to reach workplaces or stalls, and the creaking of wheels as busy people transported their cargo to various destinations. Vibrantly coloured kimonos adorned by demure women showed up brilliantly amongst the plain greyish clothes of the stall keepers and housewives, while the occasional foreign businessmen made their way through the throngs of locals, their presence not an uncommon sight already, despite the Japanese still being wary of these sudden visitors from the West.

All these, he would not have noticed on any given day, because he was used to it. His life was a routine, part of a bigger system, and the sights and sounds were part of a package he became immune to eventually. But on this particular day, Kanda Yuu didn't give a damn to any of these, because he had his sights set on something else.

The end of his life.

No one noticed him either. Just a normal-looking, young Japanese man in normal-looking clothes, his long hair tied neatly up in a ponytail, his face wearing the usual serious look that most busy Japanese wore on busy days like this. He made his way to the bridge crossing the river that wound its way through the town, pausing at the middle, and leaned against the red-painted wooden railings. He stared blankly into the swirling waters below as the river slowly continued on its way without paying any heed to him either. He leaned forward a little more, hands gripping the railings hard, trying not to shiver at the thought of the water consuming his worthless body in a few moments time, wondering how long it would take before he slipped into blissful unconsciousness underneath the dark waters.

Come to think of it, could he swim? How long would he have to struggle in the water, his lungs gasping for the air that he would severely deny them of? His long, dark bangs fell forward in front of his face, as if eager to make the jump, taunting his hesitation at finishing the deed. Kanda closed his eyes.

A slight push and it'll all be over. Just a surge of power to throw himself over the edge and he wouldn't need to worry anymore. He wouldn't need to worry about the debts or the money. He wouldn't need to be bothered with his father and his family. He wouldn't need to suppress his shivers over the endless nights at his work, if his current occupation could even be called an honest job. He wouldn't need to care anymore.

Grip the rails any harder and Kanda swore the red paint would come off onto his palms. Why was he so hesitant? This was precisely the fucking reason why he couldn't escape from this hellhole in the first place. Just jump and get it over with! Stop caring, stop thinking about what's going to happen to your father, your brothers, everything!

_'God damn it, be selfish for once!'_

His eyes snapped open. The sight of dark waters gushing beneath him were no longer welcoming, instead, he felt an urge to just throw up. No, no way, he could not make such a selfish decision!

Kanda realised how far out he was leaning over. Quickly, he pushed himself harshly backwards, and in a frantic attempt to put as much distance between himself and the river, stumbled over his feet as he tried to turn and run. In his haste, he overlooked the busy state of the bridge at the moment, and ran right into the man coming up behind him.

His momentum nearly knocked the other person over, however; the taller man merely stumbled backwards slightly, while maintaining a powerful grip on Kanda's arms, breaking his fall. Both were equally stunned though, and Kanda found himself gasping for breath as he tried to regain his balance again. It was then that he heard the man speak.

"_Dai… Daijoubu desu ka_?"

His accent was foreign. Surprised, Kanda raised his head to look at the guy and found himself staring into strange, golden eyes. The man's complexion was darker than his own, and he had curly hair swept back, not straight like his own long ponytail, and he was fucking taller than him, maybe even by more than half a head. The gentleman was also rather well dressed, not in a kimono or anything, but in one of those Western-style coats, well-tailored to fit his broad shoulders and well-built frame. He was definitely one of those _nanban._

On any given day, he wouldn't have given a damn. But today, of all days, Kanda found himself staring more than he should, at the face of a complete stranger, one from a race that his own was wary of.

Then his Japanese airs kicked in, and he remembered he ought to answer the man's question. Kanda dropped his gaze and muttered hastily: "_Sumimasen…"_, before pulling himself out of the foreigner's arms and running off the bridge.

Some answer that was. Kanda fumed at himself. That was blatant embarrassing and stupid, not to mention such a weak comeback. Next time he ever decided to suddenly kill himself, he made a mental note to commit _seppuku_ instead, somewhere private.

Yet he had barely gotten off the bridge when he couldn't help but turn and look. To his shock, the foreign man was still standing there, and he was still looking towards Kanda's direction.

Kanda hastily looked away and continued on his quest to put some more distance between him and the man right now, all the while ignoring the furious blush that was creeping up his neck and onto his face.

* * *

Evening came upon him before he noticed. As stalls and shops closed up for the day, bright lights came on, lighting up the streets that were growing dimmer. Some of these streets were lit up brighter than others, creating an array of colours and a buzz of life. Crowds of men frequented these streets, most headed for the busiest of the houses there, ready for a night of entertainment. Brilliantly dressed women, their faces done up elaborately in make-up, peeked out from behind thin frames, staring coyly at their potential guests.

Kanda headed down one of the streets that never slept, and made his way to a towering building at the centre. It was a floor taller than the others surrounding it, which were only one or two floors high, and was covered with bright lights and colourful lanterns, decorated with stylish Japanese characters. Already a small crowd had gathered at the door, despite it barely being night-time yet, and Kanda had to force his way through the throngs of men to reach the back door. A young girl in an orange kimono met him at the doorway.

"Kanda-san, you're late! Lulubell-sama will not be pleased about this!"

"She's never pleased about anything. That bitch is just out to make our lives a living hell." Kanda brushed past the young girl as he made his way inside. The girl followed him to a room along the corridor he was headed down.

"I laid your clothes out for you so you should get changed into them fast. I didn't want you to get into any trouble so…"

Kanda held up a hand and motioned for her to stop. "I'll be fine, Lenalee. You should get ready, or else it'll be you who's in trouble."

Lenalee nodded and bowed her way out of the room. Kanda heard the door slide close behind him and spared a glance at the kimono laid out for him. It was a black one, with a white design on it like rolling waves. It would be the first one he'd change into tonight, but not the last.

He moved to the dresser in front of a round mirror and stared blankly at his reflection. Within minutes, he wouldn't even recognise himself. He moved his fingers hesitantly towards the box of white powder and sticks of coloured grease. Turning himself away from the mirror, he began to spread the powder over his face.

His hands used to shake as he did this, both from rage and humiliation. Now they were steady, merely moving through a routine that he could no longer escape. He could do this more quickly than he initially could too. The face now staring into the mirror was a pale, white face that he would deny belonged to him. But although he should have been used to this reflection, he never could suppress the pain that sprang into his heart every time he caught a glance of how he looked like in the mirror. And this was just the beginning.

After his face, the change of clothes followed. He recalled how long he used to take to slip into the kimonos, how he felt so naked even with layers and layers of colourful cloth on his body, because it didn't felt like his own any longer. Now he just slipped into them like a second skin, hands moving, left over right, right over left, tying the obi like an expert. And then when morning came, he would practically strip them off his body as fast as he could without tearing them, desperate to put them away and forget about them until the very next night.

Just as he had finished pulling his hair into an elaborate pile on his head, the door slid open again. A beautiful lady stood in the doorway, an air of exoticness and authority mingled with the sharp look on her face. Kanda always wondered why she had chosen a foreign-sounding name, or if it was even her name at all. He wasn't even sure if she was Japanese, but knew better than to ask questions around here. Her kimono was a dark red, with more intricate details than everyone else, and expensive ornaments in her sharply cut hair gave away her status here. Her make-up was minimal, but her features and curves could seduce a man instantly if she wanted to, yet Kanda knew that he had to keep his distance from her, because she could just as easily kill a man with her looks too. Besides, he also knew what a demon she was.

"Late again, Kanda?" Her tone was pure ice, and usually sent chills down the spine of the unfortunate recipient of her questions.

Kanda pointedly ignored her question as he pushed a long pin to hold his hair in place. Looking at himself in the mirror for the final time, he then turned to face her.

"The crowd hasn't even settled down yet. What's the hurry?"

The woman's eyes narrowed into slits. Behind her, Lenalee appeared, looking frightened as her eyes darted from the woman to Kanda, and then back again.

"You know better than to challenge the rules here. We wouldn't want anything worse to happen to your family now, would we?"

Kanda lowered his gaze but gripped his fists furiously. Then he bit his lip before answering. "No. But I highly doubt there's anything worse that could befall them anyway."

With that, he pushed past her and Lenalee, making his way down the corridor, while fighting back the urge to just scream abuse and tear down the thin paper walls of the entire fucking place.

* * *

If you had told him that he was going to end up here of all places back then, Kanda would have laughed sarcastically and told you to fuck off. He didn't even frequent places like this anyway. Besides, he was occupied with a more honourable lifestyle, training at a dojo, and getting very good at it too.

His future was supposed to be simple. Practice hard, get a job, and then maybe, just maybe, settle down with a maiden of his family's choosing. He never really gave much thought to what he wanted to do, or what he was going to do. He just did what was expected of him and did it well.

His brothers were not much different though. His eldest brother, Mari, was the most passive, working hard with his silent strength as a transporter while his second brother, Daisha, annoyed the heck out of everyone with his sharp tongue. Maybe that was why he kept changing jobs too.

Still, they got along. Kanda was used to the chaos in his house. After all, the house survived the growing up of three rowdy boys, so all was well. But then his mother died.

That was when things just got worse.

His father never got over it. He was always a kind, caring soul, but then his health worsened after, and so did his mind. Kanda found himself working multiple jobs to take care of medical bills or pay off debts. How the heck could they sink that low, he had no idea.

And then one day he returned home to find a group of men surrounding his eldest brother. Mari was already sporting a black eye and a bleeding lip by then.

Within minutes he found himself lashing out at every single one of them, even though he was seriously outnumbered. He screamed at them, telling them to leave them alone and fuck off, and if he hadn't sold his sword off for money he would have decapitated the whole lot of them for touching his family.

It was after that that he realised how deep in shit they were in.

The men were from the local _yakuza. _Kanda was stunned to learn about the amount of debt that their family had owed them, directly or indirectly, a debt that had built up over the months, with an insane rate of interest. Some of the money wasn't even borrowed directly from them, but some way or another it led back to the _yakuza_, and now they had come to claim what was supposedly theirs.

The visits that followed were like visits of demons from hell. Kanda had never felt so helpless in his life before. They couldn't get enough money, they couldn't get themselves out of the problem, and every night was a sleepless one. He would be screaming at his brothers, and they would be screaming at him, and his senile father would just sit in the backyard, painting.

Eventually they decided to ask for more time, something that Kanda was adamant about, because he didn't want to be reduced to begging like dogs. He was raised with a samurai's pride, he was embodied with a warrior's honour, he wanted to fight till the end, even though it was a losing battle. But there was nothing they could do.

At the boss's residence, Kanda forced himself to bow in front of them and bite his lip as he heard his brother ask for a little more time and patience. The silence that followed was unnerving. Kanda's heart was pounding wildly as he wondered if they could even get out of there alive. And then a man spoke up.

"Is that your youngest brother to your left?"

Even Mari started slightly, but he kept his head down and answered yes.

"Tell him to look up."

Uncertain, he remembered slowly raising his head and glancing at the men in the room. They didn't look too friendly, and the one that had spoken was sitting to the right of the boss, while muttering something into his ear. A few others were nodding and smirking. The man that spoke finished speaking to the boss, and then smiled at Kanda. It wasn't a nice smile.

"Brother, eh? Why, you have the looks of a sister, though."

The ones not smirking began smiling too. A few gave coughs to hide potential sniggers.

Kanda felt his face go red, and he hated himself for not standing up immediately and slap some sense into the guy who had just insulted him to his face. The man seemed to notice his displeasure though, and he continued.

"Oh that was a compliment, young man. In fact, our boss has just considered your request. He has decided to accept it."

Kanda could feel the relief seeping into his brothers' spirits but his own was tinged with anxiety. Something bad was coming.

"He has also considered offering you a way to repay your debts faster. You must consider our dilemma too. We're carrying out business too, and it's troublesome if our debts aren't being paid fast enough. Hence, we offer quick solutions to aid both our debtors and our businesses. So, you will begin working for us by tonight."

He felt his brothers turning to look at him. He himself was dumbfounded; he didn't know what to say. A sudden hand at the back of his head pushed him to bow down again, and a harsh voice said: "Thank the boss, you insolent brat!"

Hastily, his brothers muttered thank you, but Kanda himself remained silent. Thank them? For what? How much more could they take from them, other than their gratitude for nothing?

There was so much more he would end up giving that he could ever know at that moment.

* * *

He could hear the noise from the crowd up ahead. Judging from the volume, it was a full house as usual. He made his way along the corridor towards a small room, and found a young boy busy tugging at screens and ropes. He had a head of shockingly pale white hair, considering his age, but Kanda had heard rumours that he suffered from some medical condition that turned it white. Well, there also were rumours that he was cursed by some _kami _or maybe a demon but personally, Kanda didn't give a damn. The kid was always getting on his nerves anyway.

The lad looked up once at his arrival and then resumed his work while muttering a greeting.

"_Konbanwa, Kanda."_

Kanda merely grunted some form of greeting and went over to a small ladder set into the walls of the room. There was a small window with bars across at the top of the room, which overlooked the platform of a wooden stage. As Kanda pulled himself up to look out from the window, he could see across the elevated floor outside towards a sea of men eager for the show. He gave the audience a rapid scan before leaping down from the ladder beside the young boy.

"They never tire of the performances do they? Jerks like those can afford to enjoy life, while we slave away."

"Speak for yourself, at least you get to wear pretty clothes."

Kanda kicked at a stool furiously. "_Urusai, moyashi!_ Do you fucking think I enjoy this?"

The boy finished tying up something and stretched himself. "I'm tired of arguing with you, Ba-Kanda. Not tonight."

The long-haired Japanese looked away as he heard a man's voice from outside, calling out to the screaming crowd. A little more now, his cue was going to arrive.

He felt a hand at his shoulder and turned. The white-haired youth smiled at him. "_Ganbatte."_

That smile was enough to break him, and at that moment Kanda wondered if he could just abandon all pretence and scream or cry or just rant in the presence of another, particularly the bean sprout. But then he stopped himself, and merely pushed the boy's hand off his shoulder none too gently, giving an awkward nod. Just at that moment a knock came and the door behind them opened slightly for Lenalee's head to pop in.

"Kanda… It's about time."

Trying to ignore the looks from both of them, Kanda turned towards another hidden case of stairs at the side and began ascending them. Allen went over and began pulling at a few old-looking metal levers, which turned a couple of creaking gears. He muttered to himself as he did so.

"Remind me to oil them, Lenalee."

The girl smiled as she nodded and left the room, while Kanda felt trapdoors open above him. What followed would be a thunderous roar of approval from the waiting crowd, waiting to see him, the so-called star of the evening.

Only, he didn't feel so bright. In fact, he felt like the dirtiest grey rock by the roadside.

* * *

"Oh my, _kabuki_ is popular, isn't it?"

The young man who spoke up plopped himself onto one of the chairs in the balcony overlooking the theatre below. His spiky blond hair was kept tied up with a striped bandanna, and he motioned for his friend to sit in the chair beside him before speaking again.

"Considering how fascinated you are by Oriental culture, this should be a treat for you, Tyki."

His companion smiled and leaned forward in his seat. "I take that this is the Japanese version of our dramas and plays?"

"You bet. It's a popular play they're putting on today, but I can't seem to recall the name for the world. All I know is that there's this actor everyone's clamouring to get their hands on."

As the audience below roared with cheers, the man with golden eyes and curly hair raised an eyebrow at his friend's statement.

"You make it sound as if things could get rowdy. Or dirty, for that matter."

The blond snorted. "You're new here, Tyki, you don't know how wild things can get when those men down there get too aroused."

Tyki blinked. "Wait, I thought this was just a decent play?" His friend's mouth curled into an amused smirk, as if he had just told him the punch line to a joke. But his answer was cut short by the appearance of the protagonist, a young man in a black kimono. Upon his entrance, the crowd began calling out what Tyki presumed was his name, but the actor seemed not to heed the attention. Then he got a clear view of the man's face and with a jolt, Tyki stood up and leaned against the balcony to get a better view.

_'That's him.'_

The young actor's face was covered with pale white make-up, a traditional Japanese way of applying cosmetics, which only further served to accentuate his fair skin. His long, black hair was swept up in tight bonds on his head, leaving one to imagine how it would look like falling past those sleek shoulders. But there was no mistaking those fiery, dark eyes, and proud stature; his was not a face Tyki would forget.

Tyki couldn't help but allow a small gasp to escape his lips at the stunning sight in front of him.

His companion chuckled and pulled him back into his chair. "Found something you like?"

Tyki had to wait for a while before he could register the question. "Uh… Yeah. That _is_ a guy out there, right Wisely?"

Wisely laughed. "All the _kabuki_ actors are men, riots used to break out so much over the women that they decided to ban ladies from acting. Well, not that they don't break out now, trust me. I'm surprised that none has taken place over the favour of that young actor down there; he's quite a beauty, isn't he? But not everyone will get his attention, it's only for the right price that you will."

The Portuguese man sighed as he ran his hand through his hair. "You do realise I have a lot to learn about this country. So you'd have to explain more to me regarding _kabuki."_

Wisely smirked. "Ease up, why don't you watch and see if you can follow, instead of me explaining everything. It takes the fun out of life."

* * *

As he made his appearance on the stage, thanks to Allen's stage tricks, the crowd went wild. He could barely hear them calling his stage name; he only wanted to get the whole darn thing over with. His mouth felt dry as he recited lines that he repeated night after night, posing in actions he rehearsed for months until he felt like a machine repeating the same movements. And yet the crowd would love it.

It was his character's death scene, she was supposed to be committing suicide over her lover's betrayal or something like that. Kanda barely paid attention to what he was supposed to be doing already; he had rehearsed it so much it felt like a habit. The character's suicide was morbidly reminiscent of his own close shave with death earlier today, and Kanda wondered if there would be another day when he would finally take his life, just like the spurned, pitiful woman.

Why was he even playing a fucking lady anyways?

Playing out the dramatic death scene, his feet glided across the floor as he spun and then collapsed onto the wooden boards, reciting those familiar lines, lines that he felt were his own, tonight of all nights. He was the only actor left on stage now; the rest had already completed their scenes, and all eyes were riveted on him. Just as the dying woman stretched out her trembling fingers towards a vision of her lover in her dying moments, Kanda stretched his out as well.

His eyes fell onto the floor above, where richer patrons could enjoy the play without mingling with the lower classes. His gaze followed where his trembling fingers were stretched out to, and locked sights with a curious yet familiar gaze from the middle box.

Strange, golden eyes, framed by curly hair swept back neatly. Eyes that seemed to bore into his soul and firmly accept the request he had just uttered to the gods. A look of pure compassion and sympathy that he hadn't seen in his entire life, almost as if ready to catch him once again, in his arms, just as he did barely hours ago in one fateful encounter at the bridge.

His heart began racing, pounding furiously within his chest. His breathing quickened, and his head began spinning for some unknown reason. Those eyes, those golden eyes, seemed to suck the very soul out of him, beckoning him, drawing him into the strange yet welcoming mystery within them. His lips slightly open and dry, each breath drawn through them shakily, Kanda found himself uttering under his breath a word he never thought he'd say in his entire life.

_'Tasukete.'_

He didn't know how long he remained there, with his hand stretched out like that, ignoring the ache that was creeping up his arm, and the murmurs of an impatient crowd, but it felt like he was staring into that man's golden eyes for an eternity. Then suddenly the drone of the audience's mutterings got to his ears and with a gasp, Kanda retracted his arm and remembered he was supposed to make his exit now. Hastily, he practically fled off stage, his heart pounding violently in his chest as he tried to grasp what had just happened out there.

* * *

"Kurohime-san seemed a bit off today, don't you think so? But his performance was absolutely stunning. How did you like the play, Tyki?"

The man being questioned in person wasn't really paying attention. His eyes were still lingering at the spot left empty by the young Japanese actor who appeared to have run off the stage in a twinkling. He seemed deep in thought, trying to get his emotions together that were in a mess ever since the debut of the raven-haired _kabuki_ actor , feelings that were churned up like a storm along with the rise and flow of the play below.

At first glance he had settled for enjoying the play, which he presumed, from what he gathered off Wisely, to be a form of past-time entertainment for the people to enjoy. The actors were no doubt experienced, each pulled off their act seamlessly, reciting their words with a flowing grace and kept the crowd enraptured for the rest of the play. But as the play developed Tyki noticed a few things that were rather hard to miss, firstly being the abundance of young, handsome men playing as actors.

Probably because he was a bit too pre-occupied with observing one particular actor, Tyki didn't really realise the way the others were portrayed but sooner or later he noticed that their acting seemed designed to be… erotic. It was small wonder that the crowd was going wild, especially for the main character. Tyki found himself beginning to worry for the safety of the young man on stage amidst the rowdy atmosphere of lusty arousals.

Now, as said young man had fled off the platform, Tyki snapped out of his reverie and turned to his friend. "Pardon me for being suggestive but, am I right in saying that the night's not over for those young men acting in the play just now?"

Wisely smirked and gave him a pat on the back. "Glad you caught on fast. Would you like an appointment with any one of them? We could certainly indulge ourselves for a night or two if you'd like."

"Don't be a fool, Wisely, that's just vulgar. But I do want to go on a little excursion, if you would excuse me."

Saying thus, Tyki got up and left his seat, making his way down the stairs with Wisely following behind soon after, an amused yet curious expression on his face.

* * *

"What just happened out there? Forgot your lines?" Allen asked as he came down. Kanda pointedly ignored him and ran into Lenalee as she came rushing up to check on him too.

"Kanda! What happened? Are you feeling alright?"

"Just screw it, I'm feeling fine! Now will you guys fucking leave me alone?"

He just wanted to go somewhere, alone. The image of that man was stuck in his mind, and those beautiful eyes bore straight into his soul, making his heart race like mad. All he wanted to do now was to get back to his dressing-room and calm himself down.

But why was he here? Could fate be that coincidental? Or did that man follow him here? No, that couldn't be it, he was sitting in one of the boxes, those were specially reserved through appointments, notably by the richer class or businessmen, so there was no way he could have followed him and decided to stay for the show. Yet, the way he was staring at him, it made Kanda feel so uneasy, as if he had heard what he wanted to say, as if he was somehow connected to him, as if he understood him.

Kanda paused outside his room. His hand moved over his heart as he took a deep breath to calm his heartbeat down. Closing his eyes, Kanda mentally berated himself.

_'Damn it all with your silly fantasies, Kanda. You sound like a useless little girl. How can a man like him, who is probably a rich, foreign businessman, ever understand your predicament? And why does it matter anyway? You don't need his God-damned help or anything!'_

"Kanda!"

Oh fuck, what did the bean sprout want now? Groaning, Kanda turned around to find Allen running up.

"Now where are you going off to? Apparently the crowd thought it was part of the play, besides, it was nearing the end already, so you're spared from Lulubell-sama's wrath. Although she does want you to get ready in five minutes, you've been booked for the night."

"I don't need you to tell me to…"

"Kanda, remember to…"

"Lenalee, no time! Stop following…"

"_Sumimasen_…"

Kanda turned around irritably at the third speaker, determined to yell at whoever the fuck it was but stopped short as he was met with a smile from the one man he was trying to hide from. Allen and Lenalee fell silent and stared as the handsome foreigner came up to Kanda and bowed politely. He straightened up and his golden eyes locked directly onto Kanda's somewhat startled ones, his lips curled into a gentle smile. When he opened them to speak, it was in broken, halting Japanese.

"Excuse me, Kurohime-san, was it? I just want to tell you that… I enjoyed your performance very much. It was the most beautiful dance I've ever seen, so full of expression."

Silence hung awkwardly among them as the foreigner took a couple of careful steps closer to Kanda and reached out a gloved hand. Instinctively, Kanda drew back a little, but the man caught his kimono sleeve and casually drew Kanda's fingers towards him, then he bent over slowly and touched his lips to them in a kiss.

Allen's jaw dropped and Lenalee covered her mouth in surprise, while Kanda's eyes widened slightly at the gesture. He made a sharp intake of breath, but didn't flinch, merely waited for the man to look up and withdraw slightly before he hastily wrenched his hand out of the other's grasp.

The older man raised an eyebrow. "Oh, did I surprise you? I'm sorry, I merely wanted to compliment you. It's what we do back in my country."

_'So he's not from around here, obviously. And judging from the way he acts, he's only been here a while. But who is this fucking idiot? Or rather, who does he think he is?'_

Realising that everyone else seemed to be waiting for his response, Kanda turned his head away sharply and tried not to glance back at the foreign man. "If you're done, leave. Unless you've got an appointment. Now if you'll excuse me, I've got no time to waste."

He pushed past the foreigner, still trying not to look at him, and also trying not to break into a run so as to get the hell out of here immediately. Behind him, he could hear Lenalee and Allen excusing themselves, but before they could catch up with him, Kanda slipped around a corner and into a dressing room to get ready.

He swore those golden eyes were still transfixed upon his retreating back though.

* * *

In case you need a translation:

i) _Daijoubu desu ka: _Are you alright?

ii) _Nanban_: Literally meaning "Southern barbarian". A term used in olden days to refer to the first Western visitors to Japan, namely the Portuguese.

iii) _Sumimasen_: Excuse me, or I'm sorry.

iv) _seppuku_: A form of ritualistic suicide accomplished through the slicing of one's own belly.

v) _Konbanwa_: Good evening.

vi) _Urusai_: Literally, "you're being noisy", but used here in the context of "shut up".

vii) _Ganbatte_: "Good luck"

viii) _kabuki_: A form of Japanese play/theatre.

ix) _Tasukete_: "Help me"/"Save me".

Oh, and glad to be back. =)


End file.
